Sipping my extra large latte, still in my dressing gown at 10.30 am, I sat myself in front of the computer screen to get the day somehow started and mull over yesterday's events.
In order to recover some of my lost data since the incident with the MP3 player, last week I summoned my first interviewee for an informal chat over a pint in the pub. This encounter took place yesterday, and indeed I did regain some of the lost facts and figures. The only problem is that one pint lead to another, and five rounds later two of my good colleagues from the university joined myself and my "informant" and we did the pub quiz. It was actually hilariously funny at times - my colleagues referred to the pub quiz sheet as my "questionnaire"... Alas, my colleagues raised their eyebrows as well as their concerns about "ethical issues" over this rather relaxed atmosphere. At that stage, of course, the "interview" was over the evening continued as a "social".
However, as a result, today I have to contend with a moral hangover as well as a more traditional one, a result of rather too many Leffes consumed last night and the blurring of the boundaries of what counts as "research" and after what point does it become utterly unfair for the reserch subject and thus exploitative...
Friday 28 March 2008
Wednesday 19 March 2008
How it all began
Since I changed the title of my blog to a much more descriptive "the phd experience" I now feel like I should record how it all started. When I told my then boss, the Chief Executive of a prominent social housing provider, of my plans to do a phd and possibly abandon my job (well, going part-time was the first step) she said "Why the fuck would you want to do that for?"
18 months on, I am still wondering what the correct answer is.
18 months on, I am still wondering what the correct answer is.
Fieldtripping in Amsterdam
I'm now allegedly half way through my phd, if the experience of a phd was time-linear, but it's not, as I have learned. I feel like I still have 2/3 ahead of me (at least) and time keeps ticking away stubbornly without any consideration for my needs.
Whilst I was away fieldtripping with our Masters students in Amsterdam, my partner accidentally deleted my first 2 interviews from my MP3 player (which I hadn't backed up or transcribed - naturally - silly me). Oh, and since Xmas he has twice, accidentally, locked me into the house by taking my keys and his own with him leaving for work, forcing me to escape through the back door and leaving the side gate open for intruders. This is possibly not a great thing to do in Manchester, the ASBO capital of the UK. Sometimes I do feel like there are some invisible forces throwing spanners in the works. In Amsterdam, there were Spaniards in the works, rather too many, as our Hans Brinker experience came to a bitter and premature end due to a rather hyperactive coachload of Spanish schooltrippers causing havoc in the hostel (midnight karaoke in the dorms opposite to my room is not what the doctor ordered for a good night sleep).
On a positive note, I did come back with a renewed enthusiasm for cycling, so I am making every effort to get around using my new bike. Even though whilst there, the cyclists really are the "silent killer" for non-native pedestrians: they are the most treacherous element in traffic for anyone used to relying on aural as well as visual signs of approaching vehicles - consider yourself being warned!
After a week hearing it first hand from the right-wingers on how to do regeneration "a la hollandaise", trapsing around estates in the pouring rain, it is a treat to be at home - even if it means getting on with the job that happens to be a phd.
Whilst I was away fieldtripping with our Masters students in Amsterdam, my partner accidentally deleted my first 2 interviews from my MP3 player (which I hadn't backed up or transcribed - naturally - silly me). Oh, and since Xmas he has twice, accidentally, locked me into the house by taking my keys and his own with him leaving for work, forcing me to escape through the back door and leaving the side gate open for intruders. This is possibly not a great thing to do in Manchester, the ASBO capital of the UK. Sometimes I do feel like there are some invisible forces throwing spanners in the works. In Amsterdam, there were Spaniards in the works, rather too many, as our Hans Brinker experience came to a bitter and premature end due to a rather hyperactive coachload of Spanish schooltrippers causing havoc in the hostel (midnight karaoke in the dorms opposite to my room is not what the doctor ordered for a good night sleep).
On a positive note, I did come back with a renewed enthusiasm for cycling, so I am making every effort to get around using my new bike. Even though whilst there, the cyclists really are the "silent killer" for non-native pedestrians: they are the most treacherous element in traffic for anyone used to relying on aural as well as visual signs of approaching vehicles - consider yourself being warned!
After a week hearing it first hand from the right-wingers on how to do regeneration "a la hollandaise", trapsing around estates in the pouring rain, it is a treat to be at home - even if it means getting on with the job that happens to be a phd.
Tuesday 4 March 2008
evidence-based fallacy?
When academics and policy makers, anyone really trying to improve the conditions of our present society by taking action that will hopefully result in a better outcome in the future, we have got to ask ourselves what is evidence-based policy? By looking at the past and the present conditions alone, we are limiting our understanding of the forces that we assume will remain unchanged so that our intervention will have the desired effect at some time in the near or distant future.
I am not convinced that planning for the future by reactionary measures alone will result in good outcomes, it is a limited method albeit "pragmatic".
I am not convinced that planning for the future by reactionary measures alone will result in good outcomes, it is a limited method albeit "pragmatic".
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